


Not Exactly Brotherly Love

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-11
Updated: 2003-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-17 06:25:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/173878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warnings: Incest, mentions Character Death</p><hr/><p>Originally posted to Deadjournal. I am unsure if I ever posted it anywhere else.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Not Exactly Brotherly Love

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Incest, mentions Character Death
> 
> * * *
> 
> Originally posted to Deadjournal. I am unsure if I ever posted it anywhere else.

I can't remember the first time I looked at him and realized that I no longer thought of him just as my brother. I can't remember the first time I told him I loved him, while really wanting to say "I want you". I can't remember the first time I cried out his name in release. But I can remember the time he pushed me away.

I was seventeen. He was twenty-two. Even at that age, he was often away, and I cherished all the time I could have with my brother. We were on the practice field and he was teaching me some new position. I can't remember what he had said that first had me growing hard (though, to be fair, it was the exception when I *wasn't* hard around him), but I do remember the look in his eyes when he noticed. My brother was five years older than me; I knew he was no stranger to a woman's touch. And I knew from the drunken confession of one of his soldiers that my brother was no stranger to a man's touch. But the look in his eyes when he saw my arousal and knew it was for him...I still wince when I think of it. He threw down his sword and just stared at me for the longest moment in my life. Some part of me was relieved that he hadn't thrown the sword at me, though I knew he would never do such a thing, not even in anger. My brother was a noble man.

I don't remember him screaming at me, even though I know he did. I don't remember him hitting me, though the mark of his hand was on my face for days after. I can only remember the words he whispered under his breath as he turned his back on me and stalked away. "He is still too young. He doesn't know his own desires."

And that hurt more than a thousand beatings.

But Boromir had unknowingly given me hope. His behavior toward me changed not a whit, but I was suddenly analyzing everything he did. Was that hug a declaration, or just brotherly affection? Did his eyes linger a little too long on me during dinner?

I think my father noticed. I can think of no other reason why his estimation of me lowered so suddenly and so completely. I can think of no other reason why he assigned me to punishment duty so soon afterwards. Boromir was also sent away.

I saw him next three years later. It was the longest time I had ever been separated from him and I felt the lack every time I passed his room. I cannot remember the words with which he greeted me, nor what I said in reply. I can only remember the way his eyes burned when he looked at me. I was twenty and fully-grown, broad as he was and as tall. And I was no longer as naive. I had given my virginity to another, and had had to clamp down on my tongue lest my secret be revealed. I could not risk that.

Boromir stayed for six days before he had to be on his way. Every night I tarried outside his chamber door in hope, but no summons came. To be fair, he never encouraged me, never gave me any sign or hint other than what my eagerness would show. My brother was a noble man. He would allow no disgrace to come to him or to me.

Twenty years I longed for him, until the day I dreamed of his death. I don't remember if my heart broke at that moment, I don't remember if I screamed in my sleep. I do know that I could not concentrate the entire next day. I do remember throwing several arrows into trees, and leaving my men to retrieve them. I don't remember letting anger consume me, but I know it did. Boromir should not have died. He was blameless. I should have died in his stead. I was the one who dreamed the dream. I was the one who brought the anger of the Valar down on us. I should never have let him convince me that he should be the one to go. I should never have let him leave me.

Oh, Boromir, I know you would have wanted me to be strong, but when that impertinent halfling disrespected you so, I couldn't help myself. You were always so good, always so perfect. The halfling had no idea what you had gone through, what you had suffered. All their lives, they've lived in peace. But our family has been forever at war. I saw my first battle at eighteen. I killed my first Orc while these halflings were still digging in mud, looking for slime in which to wallow. How dare they pass judgment on you. How dare they presume to judge the Captain of the White Tower?

Oh, Boromir, I know you would not have been proud of me then, but I couldn't help myself. I loved you more than life itself. I loved you more than I love Gondor. I would have given you anything, had you but asked for it.

But you never asked. No, Boromir of Gondor was too noble to ever let on that he desired his younger brother. Boromir of Gondor was too *good* for that. Boromir of Gondor was *above* such petty things. Boromir of Gondor had to be *perfect*. Oh, Boromir, why couldn't you have lowered yourself to my level, if only for just a night? Why couldn't you have admitted yourself a mortal with mortal desires just long enough to give me what I've always wanted? You inside me, Boromir. You inside me.

Ai, Boromir, look what I've been reduced to. Why did you have to leave me, my brother? Why did you have to leave me? I miss you. I miss you so much.


End file.
